


Everything is New

by GWhite



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gateworld Ship Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-24 20:56:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20020906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GWhite/pseuds/GWhite
Summary: Sam wakes up to a new life.





	Everything is New

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic. I don’t have a beta, so all errors are mine. I wish the characters were, but they belong to MGM. Also, not too sure about the rating. “M” may be too much. Thank you to Wackyjacqs, who gave me a nudge to write about my late husband. We knew each other two weeks when we married. Everything is New for Sam and Jack, too. Prompt:Fire. It’s there if you look.

Everything is New

Sam woke to sunlight and warmth. The sunlight filtered through the cabin window; the warmth was Jack O’Neill, her husband of one day, stretched out next to her, his face turned slightly toward where her head rested on his shoulder. The sheet was pushed down to his waist, one arm slung across his stomach, one leg had escaped the covers and was bent at the knee.

They had worked together for eight years, knew all the good and bad things about the other, knew how each would react, known when to push, when to pull back. But this thing between them had been something they couldn’t acknowledge, they were not together, but never really apart. They had denied its existence to others and had hidden it from themselves, until her dad died. Two days after the funeral she requested a transfer and Jack signed the papers without asking her why. The day she was no longer under his command, he’d told her he still cared more than he should, that the frat regs made allowances for military members who were married and later found themselves in the same chain of command. Besides, he’d talked to Hammond, and the President, reminding them that he and Sam, mostly Sam, had saved their collective asses and the world more than once and never asked for anything In return.

They were married within a week. Now everything between them was new, different. It had all happened so quickly she hadn’t had time to really absorb it all. So here she was, laying in scattered sunlight, warm and well-loved, waking in bed with her husband, with Jack. Even if they had known each other well after all those years, now they were together; this was new.

She raised up on one arm so she could study his face as he slept. He was completely relaxed and soundly asleep, unlike off-world, where he was always on guard. Here, his face illuminated by the the soft morning light, lines were smoothed out, his jaw relaxed. Now she was his and he was hers.

She lifted her hand to lightly touch him, her fingers barely a whisper over the stubble on his jaw. She traced his brows, his forehead, his nose, his lips, learning in daylight all those things she had been denied before. Her fingers trailed lightly over his chin, down his neck and across his shoulders. She took a gentle breath as her fingers did a dance across his chest, reveling in the scattering of soft, graying hair, feeling it curl as she lifted her hand. Her fingers continued their journey, skimming his nipples, then ever so softly over his forearm where it lay across his chest, his long, slender, capable fingers curling into his palm. Her hand continued, running down his side, acknowledging his ribs with the barest touch. Her gently searching fingers continued their journey across the soft layer on his stomach, knowing that it hid an iron core. She raised up a little as she stroked down across the skin below his navel to where the sheet covered him, then a mere whisper of a touch to where his hip met his leg. She shifted to explore from the top of his thigh to the scars on his knee.

She loved his body, the way he ‘d used it to love her, the way his fingers trailed fire on her skin, the way he moved, the graying hair, the perpetually tanned skin, the whipcord muscles, his strength, his scars even, but most of all she loved his dry wit, his intelligence (how he tried to hide it), the way he cared for those he commanded. The way he made her feel safe without making her feel less. The way he trusted her. The way he knew her, what she liked, disliked, accepted her, good and bad, without question. The way he loved her, without asking anything in return. He took her breath away; she loved him more than life.

Her hand stroked back up his body to rest under her cheek as she dropped her head back to his shoulder, then suddenly found herself on her back looking into smiling brown eyes. He lowered his head, tracing her collar bone with his lips.

“Carter, as much as I am enjoying this, if you’re through with the inventory, I really need to pee.”


End file.
